Hopeless Wanderer
by Calla Mae
Summary: What would happen if Gandalf requested a fifteenth member, one who was not quite what she seemed? Would her secret be discovered, would they abandon her when they found out? And what would happen if a certain elf managed to get his hands on her? Eventual Legolas x OC with a bit of Thorin thrown in.
1. you heard my voice

_She was strange. To behold, to smell, to feel. She was beautiful; golden skin, ebony hair. She smelled of the sky. Her skin was golden, warm to the touch. Her eyes were golden, a dangerous light shining within them._

_All of this Legolas thought as he we walked behind her, an arrow notched in his bow as he watched the woman closely. He kept the tip of his arrow at her back guiding her forward, her eyes covered. Why she was with dwarves he did not know; she was no dwarf, she was almost as tall as him. He would take her to his father and then return with the others for the rest of her company._

_She walked blindly, feeling the sharp point of the elf's arrow digging into her back. She knew the moment she let Gandalf talk her into accompanying him that trouble would find her; to think she had kept herself so hidden._

_She grit her teeth when the elf pushed the arrow further into her back. She wanted to hurt him – wanted to turn around and rip his throat out with her teeth. But she kept herself, remembering Gandalf's words. _Thorin must not discover what you are. All would mean you dead, but Thorin the most.

_Gandalf had not told her why he wished for her to join him, though she had an inkling it had been her knowing Beorn. But that did nothing for her now; Gandalf was gone, the dwarves now somewhere lost in Mirkwood, and an elf pushing her blindly forward._

_She could feel the change beneath her feet, knowing they were now not merely walking on the forest floor. Her head was forced back when the blindfold was torn from her head, pulling many strands out. The elf that had captured her spoke quickly before leaving, and she was left alone staring at the king of Mirkwood._

* * *

So this is an introduction to how my character first met Legolas in the story A Dark and Terrible Beauty. So if you haven't read that story then that's good because I'm re-writing it. Also, what she is will be explained later and I hope to keep her as far from Mary-Sue as possible. So please tell me if she's becoming a sue so I can change it.  
Please leave a review and tell me if you're interested._  
_


	2. I came out of the woods by choice

"You are leaving?" she asked causing the wizard to turn.

Gandalf nodded, seeing the irritation in her yellow eyes. "I have other matters to attend."

"Such as the necromancer," she said knowing he would not freely tell her.

He did no more than sigh, realizing she had heard Radagast.

She stared hard at him, feeling a fire break out under her skin. "You said my accompanying them would only be for a short while."

"And it will be but a short while longer," he assured her, wanting her to stay with the dwarves as long as he was able to keep her there.

"Do you mean for me to be the one to face the dragon?" she asked dangerously, her eyes glittering. "I have met Smaug, and as handsome as he is, I care little for him."

"You may leave now if you like," he offered her, hoping she wouldn't agree, though knowing she might.

The anger in her eyes diminished slightly as frustration filled its place. "You expect me to leave them now when you do?" she asked. "Dwarves are not known for their intelligence. If we both left them now they would quite possibly die."

"That is very true," Gandalf said, relieved she was seeing why she could not leave Thorin's Company just yet.

"I will not go into the wood, Gandalf," she told him firmly, knowing that was where they were leaving Beorn's house for.

"That is where they will need you most," he tried to insist, but even then a refusal was on the tip of her tongue.

"The sky is shrouded by leaves, the air is still and heavy. I will not go there," she insisted.

"What would you do then?" Gandalf asked her, his own frustrations growing. "Meet them on the other side?"

"If they make it to the other side," she muttered realizing why Gandalf was having her stay. "I cannot guarantee I can keep them safe, Thorin still mistrusts me."

"That he does," Gandalf nodded. "I believe he has suspicions of you, that you are no mere woman. It is of grave importance you do not,"

"let him know what I am," she finished, Gandalf having warned her many times before. "You would think after I saved him from a warg he would get over himself."

Gandalf chucked softly. "Do not let them leave the path."

…

That had not proved very hard. After the first night what seemed like thousands of eyes watched them as they slept, making the dwarves more than a little uneasy. They did not know what was watching them, what was following them as they walked along the path.

She knew, she could see them; in the dark, in the barely visible green light of day. Horrid creatures she could not face as she was now.

"You see them," Thorin mused one night as they rested, seeing a small gleam from her strange eyes.

"Yes," she answered shortly, saying no more.

He stared hard at where he knew her to be, but seeing nothing in the blackness. "What kind of creatures are they?"

"More heinous than you would like," she told him, rolling so her back was to him.

Thorin laid quietly at her side, thinking hard. "What are you?" he asked, pushing the back of her dress down further to trace the black markings on her back. Seeing the wings painted on her skin in Rivendell had been when his suspicions further grew; now, in the dark and unable to see her, he was finding that they did not matter much anymore.

"I did not tell you when you first asked and I will not tell you now," she answered, trying not to shiver from his fingers on her skin.

"Would you leave if I knew?" he asked, running his hands along the smooth skin of her shoulders to see if he could feel the markings – her skin was so warm, as though a flame flickered beneath it. He wondered if she did not want them to know what she was or if they would grow to hate her with the knowledge.

It was the latter, though she did not tell him that. "Lucky for you that you don't," was her answer, making him smirk slightly before he turned from her.

…

"We were told not to the leave the path," she said firmly, glaring at Bombur. She had liked it better when he was asleep; she wanted to slam his head into a tree so he would sleep again.

Thorin looked up at her, not willing to trust her with their lives but knowing she knew more than they did on what lay off the path. "What other option do we have?" he demanded. "We have no food, no water. Would you have us all die?"

She turned her golden eyes on him, they had darkened in her anger. "We will be through of the forest in less than five days. The trees thin in no more than a two days walk, food will be found there. Can you not last long enough?" she asked nearly sneering, igniting the dwarf king's anger as well.

"Bilbo saw the trees never end," Kili voiced trying to make her see.

"What hope do we have if there's no way out?" Fili said following his brother.

"They have the most delicious food," Bombur said, having not remembered her when he woke – she had not been at Bilbo's house that spring. "I am going." And with that he stepped off the path.

When nothing attacked him the others were quick to follow. "I suppose this is where we will part ways," Thorin said having stayed behind a moment.

She stared down at him, knowing they would get themselves killed. "I suppose so."

"Will you at least now tell me what you are?" he asked moving toward where the others had gone.

She smiled at him; it was not cruel, it was not prideful; it was a genuine smile for she had grown to like the arrogant dwarf. She stepped toward him and bent low to kiss him full on the lips. "I wish you all the luck in world Thorin Oakenshield."

They both stepped in opposite directions – one through the trees and one along the path. She would have left, would have broken through the trees above her. And yet, even though they had left, she walked along listening for them. It was because she was listening to the dwarves why she did not hear the elf before he had her by the throat.

…

"_I know what you are," the Elvenking said after a long while of staring at her. He took in her golden eyes, her golden skin. He took in her beauty, and the danger lying behind her strange eyes. He had heard tales, they were but a few, and now standing before him he could see they were true. "Why would dwarves travel with the likes of you?" he questioned her. _

_She did not like him, his haughty voice grated on her nerves. She had not wanted to enter his woods, she should have left the Company at Beorn's. _

"_Do they even know what you are?" he asked staring curiously at her. The sound of heavy feet reached their ears and Thranduil smiled. "Would you like to tell them, or should I?"_


	3. shelter also gave their shade

_Kaia: I'm very sorry to hear that. In this one I'm trying to make it so she could fit into the world Tolkien created, and in a Dark and Terrible Beauty she completely didn't._

* * *

All of the dwarves were surprised to see her when their blindfolds were removed, Thorin especially; he knew her enough to know she would not have come after them, she would have left them behind to die in the woods. But there she was, her hands bound behind her back. Even when Thranduil bid their hands untied for there was no escape, she was still restrained.

She stood listening to Thranduil question the dwarves, waiting. Silently waiting.

"Where does your journey end?" Thranduil asked. "You seek that which would bestow upon you the right to rule. A quest to reclaim a homeland, and slay a dragon."

She could feel the anger rolling in waves from Thorin, feel the Elvenking's prideful arrogance at having Thorin before him.

"Tell me, Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror, if your purpose is to slay a dragon why have you been traveling with one?" Thranduil asked leaving the dwarves in a shocked stupor. "Will she be the one to slay your dragon?"

Thorin turned his eyes to her, seeing her standing in front of him with her hands still tied. It explained so much; why she was the only one still bound, why she had known Beorn, Gandalf being the only to know her, the orcs and wargs confused fear of her, the painted wings on her back.

Hatred, as black as an abyss, rolled off of Thorin; she knew the moment he discovered what she was that this would happen; it had not bothered her much before, but now it almost hurt her.

"Tell me dragon," Thranduil said looking down at her, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth, "what was your true purpose for joining them?"

His mirth lessened the longer she stood staring darkly at him without answering. And so he continued.

"Perhaps you wished to destroy the dwarves and take the treasure for your own?" Her eyes glittered with malice, a fire raging in her veins. "That still leaves the dragon in reign under the mountain." He could see his words were effecting her, her skin changing slightly – looking almost scaled.

Legolas was at her side instantly, prepared to reach for his bow and fell her. He heard the growl in the back of her throat, and yet his father still did not stop.

"Would you slay him?" Thranduil asked. "Or would you make him your mate? The greed of a dragon, the thing that always destroys them." He smiled at her, seeing her pupils had elongated in her rage. "No matter how human you may appear, you are no more than a beast within."

Legolas grabbed her the moment she moved, it took three strong elleths to keep her held back as she lunged toward Thranduil, who did no more than sit atop his throne smirking.

Thorin stared at her, the sound that erupted from her far from human; it was a scream, one he'd heard when Smaug had come for the mountain. And then he knew everything the elf king had said was true – she was a dragon.

Legolas and the others pulled her thrashing body along, deep into the caves where they threw her into the biggest prison they had. And still it was not large enough to contain her large black body.

Even where Thorin and the others stood they heard her roar when she shifted into a dragon, feeling the ground quiver slightly from her body colliding with the door.

Elven magic kept her from breaking through, no matter how hard she threw herself at the door and walls. The elves lept aside when she spewed fire at the door, and even then it did nothing.

Legolas stared at her long teeth as she tried to bite her way out, her frenzied attempts doing little more than tiring her. He stared at her a long while after the others left, hardly able to move.

She stilled completely when her shining yellow eyes found him. And they were both left staring at each other, her large gold eyes boring into his astonished blue ones.

…

_She ran as fast as she was able, the many clustered trees slowing her as she tore through them. She saw a flash of movement and she let loose a stream of flames, chuckling darkly at hearing the screams. Her ears perked at the sound of a snapping twig. _

_In a hurried panic he did not track his footsteps as he moved forward. He ran through the trees, throwing his body against branches, his feet rustling leaves. He raced forward when he heard it behind him, hearing the sound of trees breaking as she burst through. A piece of bark caught on his leg and he fell face forward into the dirt. He rolled over, his entire body quivering, to see the large black head of the dragon staring down at him, its golden eyes fixed on his face. He closed his eyes tight when the dragon opened its mouth, letting lose a cry of his own when it less loose an ear shattering roar; flattening him to the ground. _

_He awaited death, for dragons were beasts who knew no mercy – who knew no compassion. But it did not come. He timidly opened his eyes and saw the sky above him where they dragon had broken through. She had let him live. _


	4. but in the dark I have no name

She lost herself sometimes, the longer she stayed a dragon without changing her skin. She only had flashes of memories of those times but it was normally blank pages in her mind. But this one, this one she now could remember.

_It had been during her time with Smaug, which she had come to figure was less than a decade. They had been traveling, something that had taken her long enough to convince him of – though she truly did love to fly. They had just set their feet on the ground, having been flying all day, settling on the western outskirts of the Greenwood. _

_Smaug heated the ground and she curled herself on top of it, moving so he could curl around her. He settled his great red head over her neck, a dragon's means of security and safety for their females. Smaug did not know she was a skin changer, not yet; he cast her out when he did discover her human form. But at that time, they rested peacefully. _

_It was not long before dawn that they were awoken. Not to any sound, no, elves hardly make a sound when they did not wish to. But they smelled, of earth and leaves, but there was something sweet in their scent. And it was that to which the dragons were alerted. _

_Smaug was not viciously cruel, though he had a temper – one she had tested numerous times. But as any creature he did not like to be disturbed, and he liked it even less to find unwanted visitors in his territory. On any other given day Smaug might have let the elves run by, so long as they did not come too close. But he was particularly territorial on that day, as any male would be with a threat so close to a female and the days so near the season of mating. And so he stood, a gleam in his serpentine eyes, facing the trees. She stood along with him, humanity but a small speck in her mind, so over clouded with instinct she let loose a wall of flame at the trees the same time Smaug did. _

_And as the yells and screams reached their twitching ears, they both charged. Smaug took the fleeing elves to the north and she to the south. She cared little for their taste, they were awfully thin compared to other animals, but a few she speared with her sharp teeth and swallowed. She had just burned three when she heard the snapping of a twig, and she raced in the direction of the fleeing elf. _

_She could smell his fear, it was nearly palpable. The trees were nothing to her, she simply ran through them. But a small piece hit him and he fell, allowing her slow to stop directly above him. His blue eyes were wide with fear, his breaths coming in deep pants, his entire body quivering with absolute terror. _

_It would be easy to kill him, there were so many ways; she could step on him, pierce him with a talon, eat him, burn him, fling him against a tree, or leave him to Smaug. But staring down at him, feeling how afraid he was, she remembered what she had forgotten; that she was human. She was not supposed to be doing this, she should not have killed the others. And so she did not kill him, though she told Smaug she had killed them all. _

…

Legolas returned to her after many days, not able to push aside in his mind the fact that the dragon woman had spared him. She was sitting with her back against the wall sleeping when he stopped in front of her cell. The prison was so large now that she was a woman, and he stood staring at her sleeping face. She looked so peaceful, so harmless. Until she opened her eyes, that was where the sense of danger came from – those golden eyes.

"Why did you let me live?" he demanded when he saw she would say nothing. He stared hard at her seeing she would not answer him, the proof in her clenched jaw. "You killed the others, you killed them without thought. Why did you spare me? What makes me different?"

She laughed at him, a dark sardonic sound. "You think too highly of yourself."

That offended him, not only because of her words but because she had been the one to say them. "Do not mock me dragon," he said angrily, spitting the word dragon.

She did no more than turn her heard toward him and stare at him blandly. "It had little to do with you," she told him honestly.

He stepped closer to the door of her cell, looking at her through the wooden bars. "Then what was your reason?"

She stared long at him unmoving, her eyes making him uneasy, something that nearly made her smile. "You reminded me I was human," she answered honestly, surprising him.

"Do you not know humanity as a dragon?" he asked curiously, realizing she hadn't had to have spoken to him at all. In fact she had no reason to answer him, and then he was left wondering why she had.

She turned her eyes away from him, thinking back to that time. There were so many blank spaces in her memory. "I had been a dragon for eight years," she told him. "The beast that attacked your people was in essence a dragon. Until I saw your fear."

He was left standing outside of her prison staring at her wondering many things; one of which being if she had truly done any wrong – if it was true she had not been of human mind then how could she have known better than to attack? He did not like the answer he found.

"You should not be down here."

Legolas turned to see Tauriel coming to stand before him. "This is the dragon,"

"That slaughtered our people," she finished angrily.

"Who gave me my life," he said, what he had meant to say though Tauriel's words had effected him and now he was thinking of those the dragon had killed.

Tauriel stared at him appalled. "That makes no difference," she insisted.

"Perhaps it does," he said softly.

"She slayed my brother," Tauriel yelled. "She is a monster."

All of this they had spoken in the elven tongue, which she did not understand – though she knew the redhaired elf bore her no love, it was in the tone of her voice and the fire in her eyes.

Tauriel turned to see the dragon looking at her. "It is best to leave beasts to rot," she sneered, hating the woman. Her words did not have the desired effect and Tauriel stared warily as the woman smiled.

Both elves nearly jumped when suddenly she was dragon, and they were shocked silent at the mind numbing roar that she let loose. As quickly as she was a dragon she was a woman again. "Was that enough of an animal for you?" she asked tauntingly before she sat once more.

The stone wall was cold against her skin, the back of her dress having torn both times her wing had unfurled. She turned her head to look at the elf prince, seeing him still watching her. And then he left, leaving her alone in the dark once more.


	5. so leave that click in my head

_Guest: thank you very much for reviewing, I'm glad you like it._

* * *

She was left for days with her thoughts, which were mostly of Smaug and the elf prince. The elves, as was their nature, showed her hospitality; they did not starve her. The food was not grand, the wine nearly tasteless, but it was more than she deserved. None looked on her kindly, no pleasant words spoken. She was fortunate to receive a curse if anything was said to her at all.

Her dreams were of the sky; her wings unfurled, the cool air chilling her, the smell of the earth. She dreamed of freedom. Something she wondered if she would ever have again. She dreamed of Smaug, when they had traveled together. It was not so much Smaug's company she desired so much as another living being. She was lonely. There were no animals, no plants. There was nothing around her but stone and wood. And the elves who abhorred her.

_Now the dwarves too, I suppose,_ she thought to herself.

"You were with the dragon Smaug."

What once had been completely silent, she was startled awake by his voice. She looked out of the wooden bars to see his golden hair glinting in the flicker of his torch. "We traveled together for years," she told him, not daring to refuse in fear that he would leave and she would be alone again.

Legolas nodded; he hadn't been sure if that was the other dragon she had been with but now he was. "Was he your mate?" he asked almost awkwardly, not sure if he should be asking though she did not seem to mind. She seemed to welcome it in fact. And then he realized he was quite possibly the only person who had spoken to her the week and a half she had been imprisoned here.

"Not in the sense, no," she answered honestly. "It does not fit your idea of a mate."

"Then what is it?" he asked sitting against the wall opposite her cell. She had been haunting him; when he slept, when he breathed. He wanted answers. He wanted to hate her as his kin did. But he was only confused.

She took a deep breath as she thought of how to explain. "It is as your father said," she said looking at him with deadened eyes, "I am nothing more than a beast within. Smaug, with all his intelligence, is no different than I." It was not a direct answer to his question but was enough; he now knew that they had behaved as animals, love had not been known to either of them – for what all that was worth.

His father's words had been cruel. It was true she had ruthlessly slaughtered their people, but she had not killed him; in that she had shown mercy. But if she were no more than a beast, an animal, than how could he or his father expect her to behave as though she were not? Smaug was not evil, he was a dragon. Yes he, and his kind, killed others but they were not blamed themselves; they were nothing more than beasts – as intelligent as they were. So why was she treated as though she were evil?

These were the questions he asked himself. And never was he pleased with the answers he found. "Why did you let me live?" he asked causing her to roll her eyes. "What made you remember?" he tried again.

She didn't know how to answer, she didn't know the answer herself. It was not by choice to lose herself to the changing of her skin, but it was her reality. "I was close enough to smell your fear," she said finally.

"And that made you remember?" he asked. They had all been afraid, the moment they heard the dragons fear devoured them; just as the flames did. This time she gave no answer, she didn't have one to give and he knew it. "Did you mean to kill them?" he asked, knowing his questions were making her unhappy; he could sense it off her.

She shook her head as she looked at the rock above her head. "I never do," she said softly, just loud enough for his elf ears to catch.

He asked nothing else, he had his answer. She killed, that was true, but she did it out of instinct. She did it without humanity. He could see it in her eyes it haunted her, he could sense it in waves the deep regret and years of sadness. He didn't think he would ever be able to hate her now.

…

That had been the last time he visited her. His mind too conflicted with thoughts of right and wrong and if she belonged in either category. And so he stayed away.

It had been a long few days, sitting alone in her dark cell with no company but her own. She was just on the edges of sleep when she heard someone trying to quietly approach her. She stood quickly and moved further into shadow, waiting for them to come closer. It was not his face she recognized, she could see nothing, it was not the sound of his voice, he said nothing. It was his scent. She had spent weeks, maybe a little less than two months, near enough to him that she knew his smell apart from the others.

"Thorin?"


	6. and I will remember the words you said

He stared hard into her cell, seeing nothing in the deep blackness. "We are leaving," he answered simply without feeling.

Her brows furrowed as she thought of how. "Your burglar," she said with a small smile as she thought of Bilbo.

It did not escape him that she said your rather than our; she knew she no longer a member of their company, a thought that may have saddened him if her other skin was not the creature it was. "You will remain here," he said callously, hoping to hurt her as she had him. He had grown to care for her in his own way.

"I am fortunate you are letting me live," she finished for him, having known he would not have her now. Her heart grew heavy. Not just that he was leaving, but that she would remain in this cage.

It surprised him that she knew, that she was not cursing him for openly leaving her. She surprised him again when she stepped as close to the bars as she could and he could see her. She truly was beautiful, even if she was not human. He could see that her dress was barely hanging from her shoulders and he thought of the wings painted on her back.

…

"_I do not trust her Gandalf," Thorin told the wizard sternly, the woman having come with Gandalf when he returned in time to save them from the trolls. _

"_She is a friend to me and she has offered to aid you so long as you need it," Gandalf said crossly. "She is not accompanying you." _

_Thorin sighed though it sounded more a growl. "With you or not matters little, she will be my responsibility. And I do not need another person to protect," he said refusing. _

_Gandalf looked down at the dwarf king irritated. "She does not ask nor require your protection. I am telling you I will need her and you will just have to take my word on that," he said trying to keep his head. "Now, can she accompany me?" _

…

_He had begrudgingly agreed, though with the threat of leaving her behind should she become a burden. It was not long after that, and Radagast the Brown who she knew as well, the howling of a warg was heard. And it was only a short while after that she proved how great of an ally she could be. _

_Thorin noticed that the wargs warily approached the woman, racing toward her with the means of attack; only to catch wind of her and almost pause. That was all it took for her to launch herself at them and drive her sword through their bellies. As much as he mistrusted her and her strange golden eyes, she was useful in battle. _

_Her use was proven even greater when she killed a warg seconds before it took his head off. It had surprised him, one had charged from the front and the other from behind. He had turned after killing the first to see the warg's horrifyingly gaping mouth only inches from his face. And then a flash of a sword and the warg was dead, the woman standing at his side. And then they both had run toward where Gandalf was urging them. _

…

_They had been given rooms, which the dwarves refused and instead stayed on a balcony, and food in Rivendell. She had been granted her own room and given a dress to wear until hers was cleaned. Dawn was hours off when he went to her room, telling her to prepare herself to depart – unhappy with being told she would accompany them even if Gandalf wasn't – for they were leaving in less than an hour's time. _

_But she had already known, her ears catching the dwarves' words as they spoke on the balcony next to hers. And so when Thorin entered her room he came upon her changing into her own dress. He was left immobile at the sight of her golden skin in the pale moonlight, of the dark markings on her back. _

_She had not taken much note of the footfalls, instead waiting for the knock on her door that never came. But she heard the unsheathing of a sword and she felt it's cool tip prick the skin over her spine. She released her hold on her black dress, preparing herself to attack if need be. _

_He had been questioning her humanity since the warg's reactions. Now, staring at the painted wings on her back – which were so similar to those of a dragon – he knew she was not merely human. All the proof he should have needed he saw when she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder; her yellow eyes glinting in the dim light. _

"_Turn around," he ordered, wondering if there were any other markings. There weren't. Instead he was left facing her, his eyes level with her uncovered breasts. The fact that she was unclothed would have meant nothing to him in light of the wings on her back, but she was beautiful and he was still a man. _

_He chastised himself for the quickening of his heart, for the pulsing of his blood in compromising places. He kept his sword aimed at her heart as he backed toward the door. "I think it is best you remain here," he told her before he left, leaving her and her tantalizingly naked skin behind. _

_She didn't of course, she joined Gandalf when he returned to the Company; in fact she flew him, for he knew the dwarves were being held by the goblins in the mountains. And though he would never admit it aloud, Thorin had been grateful to see her. _

…

"Gandalf warned you against telling me," Thorin said having figured out why she had not told him she was a skin changer. He stared at her in the dim light, hardly able to see more than the outline of her face. "Do you still wish me luck?" he asked, calling to mind their last parting words from in the woods.

She stepped even closer,wrapping her hand around one of the wooden bars. "I wish you all the happiness this world has to offer you," she answered honestly.

He had stood in front of her no more than two minutes, his heart had been blackened toward her but after such a short time she had softened it. "I have no doubt you will find a way out," he said making her smile softly. "But if we were cross paths again in this lifetime," he said leaving his threat to hang. He had forgiven her once, he would not again; not even if he did care for her.

She sighed softly knowing he would loathe the beast she was for the end of his days; something that greatly hurt her. But she was surprised at the feel of his lips on her hand before he stepped back.

And then she took a breath. "You must leave," she said quickly. "Go to the others and make haste."

Thorin cast a last look at her, wondering what she had smelled, before he ran further through the caves to the beginning of the river. What he would learn in only minutes was that she had smelled orcs, one in particular.

* * *

_So this is it for her time with the Company before they were captured by the elves. I won't go into any of the details of her time with Thorin and Co. but I will say they did come to care for her. And her and Thorin had come to care for each other after Beorn's, mostly in Mirkwood during the two weeks (about) they were walking through. I also probably won't go into her time with Smaug much anymore either, unless anyone really wants me to. Cause I'm be fine with that, I like the idea of doing two dragons._


	7. left a clouded mind and a heavy heart

She stood in her cell, pressed against the wooden bars which could not be broken, listening to only the faintest sound of yelling. No idea did she have of what Thorin and the others were facing, whether they could escape it. They were now not only running from the elves they were also running from Azog.

If it would have done anything she would have tried to break free from the prison, but not even her strength was a match for the elven magic that kept her restrained. She would not leave unless someone unlocked her door, and the only person who would set her free had just told her he would not.

She melted into the shadows when she heard the footsteps an hour later, they were the light footfalls of an elf, and she knew that blame would fall on her immediately.

"Did you have something to do with this?" Legolas questioned her the moment he was before her cell. He could feel her in the dark, though he could hardly see her.

"How could I, I have no means of escape," she answered mockingly.

He knew she didn't, but it was the only thing he or his father could think of. There was no way for any of them to have escaped, and yet the dwarves had. And then he realized that the dwarves had left her behind. "You know they left you," he said realizing it was true by how calm she was to learn they had escaped.

She laughed softly, a sound that was anything but happy. "What would a dwarf have to do with a dragon?" she asked bitterly, not willing to tell the elf prince of Thorin's visit before he had departed.

"Not even one they called friend?" he asked, almost feeling sorry for her.

"I lied to him for months," she said stepping closer, allowing him to see her. "I am no friend."

He stared hard at her, seeing the unhappy non caring on her face and yet feeling entirely different emotions coming from her. "If you are no friend then why do you worry for them?"

His question surprised her, angered her. "What difference does it make to you?" she snarled, her pupils elongating enough for him to see.

"You won't hurt me," he said knowing she wouldn't, not if what she had admitted last they spoken had been true. It did not stop the spark of fear that ignited in him the longer she stared at him with her now serpentine eyes.

"I lied to Thorin," she growled dangerously, "what right do _you_ have to question me?" She was not truly angry with the elf prince, though he had irritated her. In truth she was angry with Thorin, with Gandalf; but she was most angry with herself. But it was easier to be angrier with the elf, and so she exacted all her fury on him.

"You mercilessly slaughtered a number of my kin," Legolas said indignantly. "Every right do I have." He felt the small tendrils of regret, of sadness, snaking from her at the mention of her heinous act. But all the understanding and compassion in the world could not have kept him from warily stepping away from her cell, seeing she was more dragon than woman in her rage – he did not have the faith in her to allow him steadiness at the sight of her eyes. "You won't hurt me," he said again, much quieter and much less confidently; but still he did not think she would.

For the life of her she could not remember why his words were true, all she wanted was to hurt him. She smelt the fear on him, though it was but a little. And even though he was afraid, as slight as it was, he stayed in front of her prison allowing her the chance to kill him. Even when she changed skin he stood staring at her massive black head.

They stood staring at one another; his blue eyes trained on her yellow ones. She growled slightly, a warning, and yet he kept his ground. He saw the tension leave her eyes, saw the slight shifting of her scales that meant she would become a woman again, and he let himself relax.

"What are you doing?" Tauriel demanded when she saw her prince standing in front of the caged dragon.

Legolas saw the change in the woman's eyes, once nonthreatening now glowing with danger. He launched himself at Tauriel, knocking them a few feet back, the moment the dragon unleashed a burst of flame. Their skin was raw from the heat, that's how close they had come to being engulfed in the fire.

"Do you see now?" Tauriel told him, standing and looking at the dragon who was now sitting with her back to them. "She meant to kill you."

Legolas stared at his closest friend, an elleth he would call his sister. "She meant to kill _you_," he informed her just as crossly. "No harm did she mean me."

"You cannot be foolish enough to think that," Tauriel said appalled. "She is a dragon, a beast. No more than an animal and you believe she means you no harm."

Legolas stepped closer to her, she had convinced him to come to the dwarves' aid from the orcs – something he now saw had been right – but in this she was wrong. "She was left behind by those who had called her friend," he hissed. "As much of an animal she may be she is still human. Do not forget that."

Tauriel watched as Legolas stalked away, wondering how he could possible offer the dragon defense. She looked to the dragon to see the woman sitting with her back to the wall, her dress barely staying on her shoulders from how much of the back had torn. "He believes there is good in you," Tauriel told the woman, who turned her golden eyes on the red haired elf. "Prove him wrong and I will kill you."


	8. but I was sure we could see a new start

Weeks she remained in her cell, wondering where Thorin and the others were. The elf prince would visit her often, though they hardly said a word to each other. As understanding as he was she frightened him; she was wild, untamed, dangerous. She had proven as much when she'd almost killed Tauriel. But even when she was at her angriest, which he learned was when she was most sad, he knew she would not harm him. It made no sense, not if what his father and Tauriel said about her was true – but he could not see the evil creature they did. All he could see was the unbearably sad woman who hid behind a dragon's facade.

It was to that why he continued to visit her, doing no more than standing or sitting in front of her cell and watching her as she looked back. She would sit in the light of the flame and stare just as curiously at him as he did at her, but no questions were asked and no answers were given. All the understanding in the world would not allow him to forget the screams of his kin as she burned them, the terror he had felt when he thought she would kill him. He did not know if he had forgiven her, if he ever could, but he did not hate her for it.

"What is your name?" he asked after three weeks, one of the only times either of them had spoken.

"Did Thorin not tell you?" she asked, her tone bitter but her heart sad – it confused him to hear and see all the non caring in her eyes and body, but such overwhelming hopelessness and grief rolled from her in waves.

"He would not speak of you," Legolas answered honestly, seeing that had surprised her.

And it had. She had not thought Thorin would keep his knowledge of her silent, would not tell Thranduil what he knew of the dragon woman if only to spite her.

Legolas sat waiting for her to say something, anything really; something cold, crude. But she said nothing. "You will not tell me?" he asked, finding himself desperately wanting to know.

"I do not know yours," she retorted. It was an intimate thing to know a person's name, as strange as that seemed. She kept herself in secret, not trusting harm would not befall her if the wrong person knew who she was.

Legolas stared at her, just sat blatantly staring at her pretty face. Her skin was not as golden, it was paling; _she should be outside,_ he thought, _flying in the open sky._ "I am Legolas," he told her simply.

She looked over at him surprised he had so willingly gave her his name. _He should not_ _trust me,_ was what she was thinking, _there is no good in me._

"You will not tell me your name?" he asked when she turned away from him. He sighed as he stood, feeling hurt that she would tell him something so simple as who she was. And so he left.

He did not return for four days, she was surprised by how much she felt his absence. It resonated in her heart and never before had she felt so alone than she did sitting in her dark cage. She was ashamed at the hope that bloomed in her when she heard his footsteps, having come to know the sound of his movements on the cave floors as he came to her.

She knew the moment she saw him that he was leaving. His bow and quiver were on his back, his clothes ones for battle. He said nothing as he stood before the door of her prison, instead he simply looked at her. She moved to stand directly in front of him, the only thing separating them being the wooden bars. "You will not let me go," she said rather than questioned, knowing it to be true. He was leaving and she would remain.

"It is not my decision," was his only form of defense.

"And if it were?" she asked looking up at him, wanting so much for him to say he would. It broke something in her that he answered nothing.

He felt it. The moment despair took her and she made to back away, realizing if he were to let her go he would never see her again – a thought he almost could not imagine for there was still so much he did not know. "Please," he said softly, wrapping a hand around one of the bars as he stepped even closer. He was utterly surprised at the feeling of her fingers on his, of the warmth he could feel in her skin.

"Erytheia," she said so softly he almost did not hear it.

He nearly smiled, would have smiled. But another voice took him from her. "We are leaving."

Legolas watched as Erytheia released his hand and melted into the shadows of her cell. And then he followed Tauriel out of the caves where Erytheia was yet again left behind.

…

She was going mad with silence, with no company; without _his _company. The same elf gave her food everyday, spending no more than ten seconds near her before he left. She did not know how long she sat there alone in the dark: days, weeks, months, years, an eternity.

It had really only been more than a week, but trapped in an unending cycle of lonely darkness it seemed dying would be the only peace she would find. But it was not her time to die. Instead she was left in a shocked stupor when the elf unlocked her cell and bid her follow.

The sun was blinding after such a time without light, and she had to cover her eyes for several long moments before she could see anything at all. And she was shocked even more when she saw who had ordered her released. "Beorn?"


	9. so when your hope's on fire

"What are you doing here?" she asked stepping closer to him, not wanting to risk the elves capturing her again; though she knew Beorn must have told them something in order for them to release her without their king's leave.

"The goblins have come from the mountains and mean to kill Thorin Oakenshield and his Company," he said quickly pulling on her arm.

That was all she needed to follow after him at a brisk run. As skin changers they were fast on their feet, though not fast enough.

"It would be best should you not change skins until they know you fight for them," Beorn warned before he himself changed his skin. She clung to his back, holding his fur tight in her fists, as they raced toward the Lonely Mountain. It was the first she'd heard Thorin had returned to his home which meant Smaug must have been slain. She did not know what she felt, if she were sad or just uncaring; but her thoughts were more aimed at the obvious battle they would meet.

It was not much longer than an hour before they reached the battle, the sounds of the clanging of metal and the shrieks of goblins and orcs meeting their ears several leagues back. Beorn was a terrible sight to see, for those whom he attacked. Goblins ran from his gaping jaws, shrieking in terror as the large bear killed them without mercy. He had never been one for goblins.

Erytheia herself had never cared much for the hideous creatures, and so it effected her little to drive her sword through them. She paid little mind to her surroundings, if it was a goblin or orc or warg she killed it. She saw a flash of red and heard a small scream and she turned to see the elf Tauriel on the ground with a crude spear in her side.

It was hardly a thought, at least not a conscious one. A wave of absolute terror spread through them all at the sound of the dragon's roar, and even more fear drowned them when they saw her massive black shape.

Tauriel could hardly believe the dragon was there, she should have been in her cell, let alone standing over her snarling at the goblin who had speared her. Legolas was at her side immediately, standing with an arrow notched and ready.

It became quickly obvious that the dragon would not harm them when she killed only the goblins, wargs and orcs. She speared them with her claws, her teeth. She abhorred the taste of their blood but she swallowed it gleefully at the sound of their screams. She and Beorn had turned the tides of the battle, and their foe was quick to turn tail and leave. The elves and men killed as many as they could the enemy fled, and they were all faced with the carnage of the battle.

It did not seem a victory, not with so much death and sadness. Thranduil, who bore no love for the dragon woman, had truly been grateful to have her fight for them; and so he gave no order for her to be captured, he let her have her freedom for in his eyes she had earned it.

Legolas stood from Tauriel's side, there was no need for him there any longer. "Erytheia," he said softly, taking her arm and pulling her away.

"I am sorry," she told him.

"You tried to save her," Legolas said seeing she was upset that Tauriel had died. "It is more love than she gave you, and I know she was thankful."

Erytheia looked up at Legolas, seeing the pain in his eyes at loosing his closest friend, and she looked down ashamed. She had caused him more pain than anything else, and still he did not hate her.

"Erytheia."

They both turned at the familiar voice to see Gandalf coming closer. "Thorin is requesting your presence," he said when he reached them.

Legolas released her, seeing she was shocked the dwarf wished to see her, and watched her walk with Gandalf toward the tent the king under the Mountain was laying in.

She should not have been surprised he had been wounded, though she had never imagined the extent to which he was hurt. "I killed him," was the first thing Thorin said when he saw her.

Her smile was more a grimace, having no joy to give him. "It seems even now Azog is killing you."

He gave a small laugh, knowing he was dying. "I should not have left you."

"I should not have lied," was her response.

Thorin held his hand out for her and she took it gently as she sat beside him. "Let us speak of kinder things," he said quietly, his energy waning. He took a breath, which sounded so ragged she feared he would stop breathing then. "You are beautiful," he told her with a small bloody smile. "I had hoped to see you."

"Hoped in secret," she said making his smile grow.

He looked at her, seeing her sad yellow eyes and pretty face. "Forgive me."

She shook her head. "There is nothing to forgive." She sat holding his hand, feeling it grow colder the longer she held it, hearing his breathing become more labored. There were so many things he wished to say to her, that made no difference now.

She left when Gandalf returned with Bilbo, taking a deep breath of air that was not tainted with the smell of Thorin's blood. She knew the moment he died, she felt it in her heart. She _hurt._

"Lady dragon," Thranduil said in his soft voice, wishing to ask for her pardon.

There was no pardon, no forgiveness. She looked at him with her tear-filled golden eyes, hatred burning her from the inside out. A scream erupted from her when her skin changed, one that drove fear through their hearts like a stake. And then she was gone, her black shape growing smaller the further her wings took her. Stories would be told for the ages, of the dragon woman who had come to aid those in the battle of the five armies. The woman who had thrown herself at the mourning sky, leaving them with a heartbroken scream; leaving with all her dark and terrible beauty.

* * *

_So this is pretty much it for the prequel. The reason she is so upset is because she not only lost Thorin, she also lost Smaug (and even though they hadn't left on good terms she did care about him). And she blames herself for both Tauriel and Thorin's deaths.  
If anyone is interested in me doing parts of her time with Smaug, I would be happy to do it. She also spent a lot of time travelling with Aragorn, so I could cover that here too if anyone would like to read it. As always, let me know if you want to read it and I'll do it. Thank you all so much for reading this and reviewing. I hope to see you when I start to rewrite A Dark and Terrible Beauty, which will be found under Lord of the Rings._


	10. letter to readers

Since two people expressed the want of reading about Smaug and Aragorn I may do a few chapters once I finish the sequel to this story. Starting tomorrow I will remove the story A Dark and Terrible Beauty and then I will create a new story of the same name. I'll have it under Lord of the Rings so you will find it there. Thank you all very much for reading, it really meant a lot to me.


	11. but you know your desire

_She was sleeping the first night he saw her; her black body curled on a mountain's ledge, snoring softly. The only reason he knew she was there was because he'd smelled her – she smelled of the sky and burning wood, a not unpleasant smell. _

_His residence was a large cave between two jutting edges of the mountain, entirely unseen. He crawled from his cave, hooking his talons in the rock as he pulled himself along. Nostrils flared, eyes glaring, smoke billowing from his nose. He was prepared to attack, for dragons were very territorial. Until he saw her, which her being a female was obvious from her smell. His reason for sparing her was simple, females were rare. And she was beautiful. _

_It was a strange beauty, he thought. She was almost as big as him, though she was slender, feminine. Her black scaled face had cheekbones and she appeared to have the curves of a woman, which in and of itself was strange. He took in all of this as he clung to the side of a mountain, staring down at her sleeping form. He inched his way closer, the intent to make her his, and he knew the moment she was alerted to his presence. She did not breathe so deep, an ear flicked, her tail twitched, he heard the distinct sound of sharp talons scratching at the rocks. _

_She was fast. She rolled when he dropped on her, evading him. A warning growl in the back of her throat as she glowered at him. Her eyes were the same gold as his, but they held knowledge in their depths. _

"_Hello," he slithered, sounding very much a man. He saw the surprise in her eyes, though she said nothing in return; not all dragons could speak the tongue of man. A shame, but he would make do. _

_She growled loudly when he moved closer, warning him to keep his distance. He saw the smoke coming from her mouth and he nearly chuckled; she could breathe fire as he could. She looked down startled when he spewed flame at her feet, circling the ground in front of her before creating a heated circle in front of himself. He lowered his belly on the hot rocks and curled his tail around him to sleep, watching until she reluctantly did the same. _

_She kept an eye open as she rested, watching as he slept. Though in truth he was not sleeping, he was only laying several feet away from her waiting. He would make her his. _

…

She had not wished for a friend when she met him. He was young, barely of age, and he was handsome. He was not the young boy she'd first met in when she had been in Thorin's Company.

"You are beautiful milady," he remarked, raising her hand to his lips.

She smiled slightly at his charming attempt. He was handsome, but he was not so handsome as the elven prince from Mirkwood – a thought she cursed herself for thinking. "You have aged well, Estel," she said surprising him.

"Have we met before?" he asked, suspicion growing at her knowing him by that name.

She tilted her head and appraised him. "I suppose you may not remember me, we had only met but once; I was traveling with a company, we rested here for but a night."

His eyes narrowed as he studied her face closely. "A company of dwarves?" he asked, thinking her yellow eyes were hauntingly familiar. His answer came in a sly smile on her lovely face. "You have not aged a day, milady," he said with a small smile.

"No I suppose I have not," she mused smiling herself.

"How have the days seen you?" he asked stepping closer to her, her warmth was truly alluring.

She smiled stepping away. "They have seen me better," she admitted softly, looking away from him.

He stared hard at her, seeing the years of sadness on her youthful face. "What misery have you been given?"

She was so starved for company – for Legolas' company – that she looked at Aragorn and answered him. "I made a friend only to lose him in battle," she told him. "And I made another friend, only to leave him."

It was in the last one that Aragorn heard the most regret. "You love the one you left," he remarked.

"No," she said with a small laugh, shaking her head. "I knew him for no more than a month. Love does not grow in so little a time."

"Perhaps it could," he said, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. He had seen the ferocity in her when he first met her, remembering her more the longer he stayed at her side. She would be a welcomed friend in his travels across Middle Earth, and any danger he found. And yet he could see the sorrow in her eyes, the want of a companion; and he was in need of a companion who knew their way in battle. But he would not leave Rivendell for another week, and at the end of that week was when he would ask her for her company. And she would say yes.

* * *

_The italics will be her time with Smaug, and the other with Aragorn. I may not always do both travels in one chapter, I may only do her time with Smaug or only her time with Aragorn. The problem with her time with Smaug is that they're dragons, and not all dragons can speak like humans; Erytheia can't when she's in dragon form. So Smaug won't talk to her like he would a person, he'd communicate like a dragon (like an animal). So the importance of "speech" between the two comes from grunts or growls or purrs. Which you can imagine sounding in the voice of Benedict Cumberbatch, which is kind of hot if you think about it. _


	12. don't hold a glass over the flame

A full dragon she may not have been, but she was just as territorial; and so when the large red dragon continued to sleep beside her she gave him a thick growl before curling up and sleeping, keeping an eye open to watch him. But he rarely left her, in fact he stayed near at all times.

He would fly leagues behind her and then circle above her a few minutes before landing on her ledge. After many weeks she would simply growl lightly and turn her back on him; trusting him enough to know he would not attack as she slept. It was seeing that trust, as small as it was, that made Smaug nearly smile and inch closer. He chuckled when she whipped her head around and growled irritably at him, but she settled back down when he stilled. It had been the first time she'd gotten a full nights sleep.

Her eyes shot open at the sound of something dropping less than two feet from her, and she turned ready to let loose a wall of flame. The tension left her at the sight of Smaug standing over the horse he'd dropped beside her.

He watched her closely, jerking his head toward the horse to say he wanted her to have it. He watched as she slowly moved her head closer, sniffing at the horse, before grabbing it with her teeth and swallowing it. She did not growl when he moved closer that night, but her too knowing yellow eyes found his when he got as close as she was willing to let him, and so he settled a few feet away from her; close enough to feel her warmth. He was restless that night for he wanted her; she was a female he a male, mating season coming closer and his blood was boiling.

She was gone when he woke, something that had him on his feet in an instant. Her smell lingered, and he followed it along the ledge to the side of the mountain. He could smell her on the rocks, seeing the holes from her talons as she climbed down, and he silently dropped to the ground and smelled her there as well. He followed the alluring scent of sky and embers until he found her crouching on the underside of a hill. There was excitement in her eyes when she turned to him, and she motioned for him to look over the top of the hill; a herd is what had caused her excitement, and he felt his own fluttering in his blood.

It was the closest they had ever been to each other; shoulder to shoulder, leaning against one another as they slowly crawled forward. She nudged her head against his and he bumped her back, and then they launched themselves at the herd. He could feel her joy, the raw nature of the kill, and his blood turned warmer. They feasted well, knocking the herd back by three quarters.

The two dragons came together as a drunk couple would after a brawl, laughing and leaning on one another. He rubbed his head against her neck, feeling her still completely. She looked at him with her strangely deep eyes and he waited for her to jump in the air and fly back to her ledge. She surprised him though, she nuzzled her head under his chin. He felt a purr in his throat, a breathy sigh, and he nudged her back. He pushed her with his head to the ground and she snarled and squirmed from beneath him. He launched himself at her throat seeing he would need to hold her down – he wanted her on her belly – growling at her dangerously, but it did nothing for she would not lay down complacently.

He watched her as she flew back to her ledge knowing something was wrong with her, any other female would have laid still when he climbed on top of her – what was so different about her that she wouldn't, he wondered to himself as he flew after her. She growled softly at him when he stood over her, and he hissed making her flinch before he nudged her into standing. She faced him head on and he nearly rolled his eyes before he heated a large circle on the ledge and settled on half of it. A few moments later, after hesitating, he felt her back against his as she settled beside him.

He did not know what was different about her, there were only a small few things about her that made her strange, but he would find out what. But he would have her first, that much he knew, for tomorrow would mark the beginning of mating season.

* * *

_I'm trying to make both her and Smaug like animals (obviously his wanting to mate her is more animilaistic), but still have some human qualities about them. But I don't know how well I'm doing that, I've never written a person with the mind of an animal before. So next chapter might get a bit more T rated for the start of mating season, cause pretty much what I have in mind is like cat's. The male holds the female down and does his business and then gets off her - only that Smaug and Erytheia will stick together still after. Just a little heads up, though it won't be graphic or anything - or else the rating will need to change which I don't want. _


	13. don't let your heart grow cold

"Do you wish to speak of him?" Aragorn asked after a month of traveling. He noticed moments when she would quiet, staring at the space in front of her and he knew she was thinking of someone.

She did not answer him at first, instead she sat atop her horse and rode in silence. She had grown to like Aragorn, he was a quiet man – a kind man, noble. "He should have hated me," she said softly, almost too quiet to hear.

"Why would he hate you?" Aragorn questioned, not seeing how anyone could – her yellow eyes were misleading, she was actually fairly pleasant company.

"Something I did," she said quickly, letting it pass without explaining. That was something else she liked about him, he was patient with her. "I hated me for it."

Aragorn stared at her face, seeing the sorrow and the pain. "Perhaps that is why he couldn't," he told her. "You punish yourself enough, perhaps he saw you regretted your actions; whatever they were."

She rode along in a thoughtful silence. "Perhaps," she agreed, thinking of his golden hair and blue eyes – of the understanding and compassion that laid in their depths.

Aragorn let her have her quiet until they tied their horses and settled for the night. "What of the man who died?" he asked, the first he had ever spoken of the dead man to her.

She turned to Aragorn surprised. "What of him?"

"You mourn him, Erytheia. He meant something to you." Many things about her confused him, this the most. He did not understand the way she cared for people, the way she loved; it seemed as though she had loved the man who died, and yet she cared for the man she'd left almost as strongly. It took him a long while, a year later to be exact, that he learned she cared too deeply – and it destroyed her nearly every time. But at that moment in time he laid beside her confused.

It was a while before she answered him, she had not even spoken his name since he'd died. "He was a dwarf," she told him and he nodded remembering the thirteen who had been with her in Rivendell.

"Was it the leader of the Company, the one who did not seem to like you?" he asked, seeing he was right by the surprise on her face.

"Yes," she said before trying to form his name on her lips, "that was him," was what she said, unable to say Thorin.

"Did you love him too?" he asked gently, almost afraid she would refuse to answer.

"Not in the ways of man, no," she answered sighing, confused herself.

"In what way did you love him?" he asked her curiously, not understanding her in the slightest.

She threw her arm over her eyes. "I don't know," she whispered, her thoughts turning to Smaug. She had loved him, as much of a brute as the dragon was, but it was not the same love as men; or even elves or dwarves. There was nothing like it, except in animals. They were mates, in nearly every sense of the word, but losing him had meant nothing to her – sure it had saddened her for he had been her companion for years, but it did not cripple her with sadness. Neither had the death of Thorin; it had hurt her, more than any other loss she'd faced; but she was not so sad anymore. All Erytheia knew was that the only person who haunted her every moment was one who was not dead, the one she'd left – the elf.

Aragorn had been watching her face, seeing the utter confusion, and then she sighed and rolled away from him.

…

_She hissed at him, and he in turn growled dangerously. But even then she did not back down. He circled her, lunging for her throat every so often only for her fight herself free from his grasp. His frustration grew the longer she refused him, his need to mate so strong in him. And she was in heat, he could smell it on her – so it confused him to no end why she did not lie still. _

_She whipped her tail at the ground, keeping it curled slightly around her to protect herself from him, and still he came. There was an ache, so sharp and painful, she did not understand. She knew what he wanted and she knew she should not allow it; what she could not remember was why not. And so she held her ground, keeping her back end away from him and trying to keep his teeth from her neck – for the moment he caught her it would all be over, a thought that made her ache more. _

_He could tell she was weakening to him, seeing her refusals grow less firm; she did not move so quickly away from him, she did not throw him off her so roughly – she was almost ready to give in. And so he waited, pushing himself closer than she would allow, waiting for her to back away from him snarling. This continued for a long while, until she did not move fast enough away. _

_And then he was on her. Her struggles grew more fervent when he held her around the back of her neck. She tried to twist her neck from between his teeth but his jaw was too strong and he held fast. She did not settle until he forced himself atop of her, and then there was no choice – she was a female and he a male, both at the start of mating season. _

_The sound of dragons mating is a terrifying thing to hear; there are snarls and growls, roars and whimpering. Most are frightened away by the sound, for to other ears it was the sound of fighting; but underlying each ferocious noise was a purr, one only the two could hear. _

_He released her when he'd finished, feeling her panting beneath him. She was not entirely happy when she stood but she let him nuzzle her, and she bumped him back a spare few times. He heated the rocks beneath them and he waited until she curled herself up before he curled his large red body around, nestling his head over hers as they slept. She smelled of him entirely, and to other dragons that meant one thing: she was his._

* * *

_Something about Smaug and Erytheia in terms of mating; in the hobbit when Smaug attacked Erebor he said he was very young - so during his time with Erytheia he was younger so this could be his first mating season where he was of age. And at this point Erytheia is very young as well, at least by dragon standards - and in human form she would be an old teenager; so about 18 or 19, so that was basically her first time. Only at this point she's been a dragon for long enough that she's starting to lose the human to her, so this was all dragon instinct. _


	14. I will call you by name

_She was woken yet again to something loud being dropped beside her. She sat up to see Smaug sitting beside her eating a deer, and beside him were four other deer he'd killed. She ate two, leaving him half, and he nudged another closer to her before eating the last. She watched him get to his feet, seeing him step closer, and she wrapped her tail in front of her – hiding herself further from him. _

_He gave her a sharp look, letting her know she was testing his irritation, before he pushed her with his head. She whined at him, not knowing what he wanted – thinking he wanted to mate again, and that she did not want – but he gave a short growl before pushing against her leg making her stand. _

_He did not know why she was keeping herself from him, knowing after they'd mated she should have stood and bared herself to him – but she didn't, instead she refused. He would find out why, the curiosity of what was different about her being a reason he continued to stay. He nuzzled her, showing her he was not upset, before he lept into the air. He was pleased when she followed after him. He enjoyed flying with her, seeing the strength in her wings as they beat; she truly was beautiful. It was in those times, for a sparse moment, when he was glad he'd found her. _

…

_It did not happen the first day, nor the next. The fact that she was holding out confused and frustrated him – he could smell she was in heat, it grew stronger everyday. And it left him in such an agonized frenzy that he sometimes could not be near her. He retreated to his cave, where it was free from her intoxicating smell – and just a small enough scent drifted on the wind to let him know she was near. _

_She heard when he whined, sounding more like whimpers. She could see the need in his eyes when he was near, could smell it on him; a scent that drove her wild. She could not for the life of her draw to mind why mating with Smaug was so wrong. She couldn't think of a single reason why she shouldn't, and so she did. _

_It was nearing the end of the week that he heard her climbing into his cave, feeling her coming near. He didn't have it in him to growl, or to even turn away. All he wanted was to mount her, and she would not let him. He glowered her at her as she stepped near, seeing the caution and hesitation in each movement. A sigh escaped him when he felt her rub her head against him. A needy purr when she rubbed her entire body against his, whining at the lingering feel of her hips against him. _

_He stood and turned to her, purring as she went beneath his belly and ran her body against him. She was giving herself to him, a sign of mating in a female in heat. In this she acted as a normal dragon would – for that's what she was, there was nothing human behind her instincts in that moment. There nothing but the animalistic need to mate, and so she lowered her chest to the ground leaving her hips high in the air. _

_He growled when he saw her, an involuntary reaction at seeing such a tantalizing sight. He did not hold her down, he did not bite her neck – there was no need, she was his. All the proof he needed was in the sound of her screams, matching his own. She was his. _

…

They stayed in Gondor for years, for it was Aragorn's rightful kingdom – though he was reluctant to claim it. Instead he stayed with his people, watching them and fighting for them. It was something Erytheia did not understand – she could not comprehend why he would continue to live among them if he would not tell them of his heritage. It was a very human thing, and Erytheia was enough of a human to understand why he did it. Though Aragorn did not know she could change skins, and she was not brave enough to find out if he would hate her for being what she was.

She was given no choice though. Years after they began traveling together, to which Aragorn now understood she did not age as normal men for she looked exactly the same, and they were traveling to Rohan where he wished to spend their time. An orc pack came across the two as they slept, when they were at their most vulnerable. Erytheia smelled them a few leagues before she saw them, to which she alerted Aragorn.

"We have been discovered," she whispered to him, startling him from sleep.

"How do you know?" he asked, unsheathing his sword as he stood now erect and prepared to fight.

She looked far into the dark, not seeing anything. But their smell was so horrid she knew exactly where they were. "I can smell them."

If they had not been threatened by such an enemy Aragorn would have thought more on that – it was not the first time he'd understood that she was not just a woman, he just did not know exactly what she was. He found out that night.

For when the pack descended on them it proved too much for the two of them, and when three orcs held Aragorn down, and another held his sword over the man's throat, she made a choice: she cared too much for Aragorn to let him die. And so she erupted into a dragon, killing their foe in the matter of a minute. There was no other choice for her but to shift into her human form, and she was left staring at Aragorn's shocked face.


	15. I will share your road

"What are you?"

She could hear the shock in his voice and she almost flinched when he took a small step away from her. This is what she had been trying to avoid. "A skin changer," she answered him softly, keeping her eyes on the ground and her head bowed.

He could see she was upset, see it in the way she stood without moving or looking at him, see it in the way she played with her hands. She was worried he would hate her, just as the dwarf had; it was truly endearing to see her fidgeting so. That she cared enough about his companionship that she did not wish to frighten him away. And so he tried not to be frightened; even though she had been a dragon, even though she had killed every single orc in less time than it took for him to uncover his eyes, even though he was in fact scared; he tried not to be frightened.

She looked up at him when she felt his hand gripping hers, stilling their fluttering. "You do not hate me?"

It almost hurt him to realize she did not think anyone could ever love her, not with what she was. "Of course not," he assured her, seeing the hope in her eyes. "Not everyone who knows you will hate you. They might be afraid, but they may not all hate you." He could see the disbelief in her eyes and he wondered if there was anyone who did not hate her. "Did the dwarf king hate you?" he asked her.

She was quiet a moment before she nodded. "He did when he discovered my other skin was a dragon. But he spoke different words when he died."

Aragorn nodded as though he understood; in truth he did not think he would ever understand her and the way she cared, though he knew why – she did not care in the ways of man but rather in the ways of an animal. "And the man you long for?" he asked causing her to look at him appalled.

"I most certainly do not," she said in outrage making him laugh as they moved away from the dead orcs.

He chuckled for a moment longer before he looked at her, seeing a slight tint to her cheeks in the moonlight. "Did he hate you?" he asked.

"No," she answered softly, thinking of the elf prince. "I do not know why though."

"Perhaps he longs for you too," he said nudging her, laughing at her hard eyes. It was a moment later she was trying to laugh herself. "What's it like being dragon?" he asked curiously.

She shrugged. "I don't know," she said as she thought, taking a long while to think about it. "It's like being me."

He studied her face, seeing her brows drawn together in deep thought. "Is it harder to be human?"

"Yes," she answered, not needing to think about that. "There are emotions and courtesies that dragons have no use for."

He nodded understanding that; he figured it would be easier to not have to worry about life, as a dragon he thought she would only worry about food – which was easy enough to find. And then he wondered why she was a human at all, it seemed the more difficult skin. Then he wondered if it were not the man she had left why she was in her human skin. That put his mind on an entirely different track, one of a more inappropriate nature. "Do you have a mate?" he asked surprising her.

She looked at him scandalized before she shook her head. "I did," she told him.

He looked at her waiting for more until he realized there wasn't. "He died."

She took a heavy breath before looking at him. "Yes, though he had discovered what I was years previous and had left me."

"That sounds harsh," he said not liking the dragon she'd been with.

She shrugged. "He let me live," she offered.

He did not agree, _he_ hadn't left her – therefore there was no excuse for the dragon having left her because of what she was. She was too good for a lot of what she took; she was too good for the dragon, too good for the dwarf king; and yet she let them get close enough to hurt her. She was more caring than he'd thought. He decided to change the subject. "How was that?" he asked blatantly.

"How was what?" she questioned warily.

"Mating with another dragon?" he explained nonchalantly.

"Aragorn," she exclaimed making him laugh loudly. "I am a lady, you cannot ask me that."

"You're a dragon too," he offered in his defense. "So? Was it like with a man?"

She looked at him wide eyed, her mouth opened but no words to say. "I, I've," she stuttered, "never been with a man."

"Really?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Do not act as though that is so hard to believe," she said holding up a finger and he raised his hands in mock surrender.

They continued walking, Aragorn laughing softly and Erytheia biting back a smile. This was the most human she had ever been – jesting with a friend. She liked it.

He looked at her out of the corner of her eye. "I'm not going to leave you," he told her seriously. "I think it's wonderful that you're a dragon."

"Really?" she asked almost timidly, for no one had ever said that before.

"Yes," he told her with a nod. "You can kill anything."

It was her turn to laugh and he smiled at the sound, for it was the first he'd heard it. They walked for the rest of the night, Aragorn asking her about being dragon and her time with Smaug. And Erytheia asking him things about being a human. It wasn't until the sun was peeking its head over the horizon that Aragorn stopped her with a request.

"Can we fly?"

She was surprised at the welling of tears in her throat, thinking they were uncalled for. But in truth there had been no one to ever trust her enough to want her in her dragon skin. But Aragorn did. Not only that, he trusted her with his life. Something entirely new to her. This was the moment that began their unbreakable friendship, one that would last for the remainder of their days.

* * *

So this might actually be the last of her journey with Aragorn; frankly I don't know what else to write. But there may be a chapter or two more of her time with Smaug and then I think that will be it.


	16. hold me fast

They stayed together for years – eight to be exact. Many of those years they spent around the Misty Mountains, for that was Smaug's home. Erytheia would coax him to fly farther, forcing them to sleep somewhere new – and eventually he left his cave for days at a time to fly with her. He discovered how truly freeing it was to live outside his cave, to live where he was not always safe. Eventually he stopped caring she was different, that not many things she did were truly of a dragon's mind – he embraced it, he embraced her. She was his mate and she would remain at his side until the end of their days; or one of them fell, whichever happened first.

They retreated to his cave when spring came, when mating season began. For the entire week they mated, Smaug leaving to get them food, and they curled together resting before they began again. And not once, in those eight mating seasons, did she lay eggs. He did not mind, he was not of the age to want offspring yet – but it was something he found odd.

The answer to all his questions came less than two weeks after they attacked the elves, after the season of mating. She had been consumed with guilt from what she had done, the elf with the golden hair and bright blue eyes haunted her – his fear of her so palpable she would have cried if she were human.

She had not meant to, it had been out of her control. She had been a dragon for far too long and her humanity was demanding itself be known. And what a great surprise Smaug woke to when he saw a young maiden in his cave.

She couldn't turn back, no matter how she tried – she couldn't even remember why she was human again. She had lost her memory of the elves, for it was a dragon's memory, not a human's. She stared at Smaug in fear and sorrow as he looked down at her utterly shocked.

He did not understand. The woman's eyes were mate's, her black hair as dark as her scales. Her flesh was sun kissed and completely bare. She smelled of the sky, and burning wood – she smelled like his mate. And so it had to be, she _was_ his mate. "What are you?" he asked her, his voice a deep baritone that she could now respond to.

"A skin changer," she told him, her voice shaky and light – sweet in its youth.

"A skin changer," he said releasing a dangerous laugh. She backed away from him when he stood, towering over her as he leered down at her. "You are no dragon," he hissed, opening his jaws and roaring.

She flinched, her back pressed against rock as she shook, her eyes squeezed shut as she listened to him moving. When she found the courage to open her eyes once more she was alone. She could hear him screaming as he flew, hear the sound of him letting loose a wall of flame at everything in his path.

He would kill her. That is what he had decided, it was the only thing to do. In her human form she could not leave the cave, she was much too small. And he was counting on her still being a human, for she was still unable to change skins. He could smell the fear on her when he stood over her, glaring down at her, opening his mouth to consumer her.

"Please."

Her small voice stilled him, and he was left immobile when he felt her small arms around his ankle. He could feel her shaking, feel how warm her flesh was. The desire for her death left him when he felt her, when he heard her. He growled, wrapping a clawed hand around her and climbing out of the cave, releasing her when he was on the ground.

She looked up at him wondering what he would do. She knew he had been about to kill her, and it surprised her that he hadn't – perhaps he did care for her.

"Go," he growled, nudging her roughly with his head.

She stood from where she'd fallen looking up at him disbelievingly. He was letting her live so long as it was not with him – that saddened her, she did not want to leave him.

He could see she wanted to stay with him, something he wanted as well – only he knew she couldn't. He stamped his feet and let loose such a roar the earth beneath her feet quivered. "You are not a dragon," he yelled, growling as he looked at her. He left her, seeing she would not go.

She watched as he took flight, as he went back to his cave without her. It was then, now that she was human, that the tears streamed from her eyes. And it was then, when she was at her most human, did she change back into a dragon. She screamed, frustrated angry and sad; because she was alone. And so she fled, leaving Smaug behind.

It was hardly a year later that Gandalf stumbled upon her as a human, realizing what she was from her golden eyes and painted wings on her back. And it was less than two centuries after that he called her to aide a company of dwarves. And they met her with mistrustful eyes, wary of her dark and terrible beauty.

* * *

_I'm not sure if I said this before but she's actually really young when she's with Smaug - think 16-18. She's just barely a woman. So she's still relatively young during the Hobbit; she's about the same age as Thorin. _

_But this is it for the prequel. Thank you all very much for reading. Please check out the rest of Erytheia's story in A Dark and Terrible Beauty found under the Lord of the Rings category, if you haven't already. _


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